If anyone has ever told you that the world is safe, if anyone promises you safety, run. Run as fast as you can. There has never been a deeper or more dangerous lie. The world may be many things, but safe it is not. Good? I certainly hope so. Beautiful? I’ve never doubted that. But safe? Not a rock, not a breath, not an atom is safe.
Its dangerous and rough. Its full of winds and storms. Even the sunshine can burn your skin. The frost which paints your windows can equally paint your fingers and toes. The rain which waters your crops could destroy them tomorrow. Your domesticated Fido is not so far from his lupine ancestors. We have no control over the rotation of the earth, of our path around the sun. I cannot change the moon or unleash the tides that could so easily destroy, if they shifted. The world is wild.
It is a child running dirty through a field of weeds and wildflowers. Its an undiscovered species waiting for science to bring it a name in an ancient tongue. It is fire and ice and wrath and gentleness. It is a mother. It is nothing at all. It is everything. You’d have to be daft to not be simultaneously terrified and delighted.
Its not safe. Its not prepackaged. Its not predictable. I can control it, to some degree. I can direct the stream in the valley that is my life. I can choose to inhale beauty and exhale compassion. But I cannot make the world safe. And god forgive me if I ever tried.